


If I Should Die

by moonflowers



Series: Self-Indulgent AUs [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, World War I, all the aus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If this – if tonight really is our last night, and you could do anything with it you wanted, anything, one last time, what would it be?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Should Die

**Author's Note:**

> Brief WWI AU written for the prompt 'dying a virgin' a while back on Tumblr - it feels tidier to put older fics here too. I may have given it a different title when I originally posted it, I can't remember. Nobody actually dies, fyi.

“So,” said Kent as he returned from sentry duty, “tomorrow it is then.”

“That’s right,” Thomas handed him his cigarette, watching the smoke from his own lips fade into the night air.

“Mmm,” Kent grumbled, taking a drag and leaning against the trench wall next to him, “it’s alright for you. You’re just carrying the stretchers.”

Thomas glared at him. “You should know by now that’s no guarantee I’ll make it through,” he said sharply. The man he’d been ‘just carrying stretchers’ with for the past seven months had been shot dead less than a week ago, as they dragged an injured man off the field. 

“Right,” Kent handed back the cigarette, “sorry.”

They said nothing more for a time, just smoked, and looked up to the few stars that were visible through the cloud. They hadn’t known each other long – nor were they likely to for much longer, out here – but they got on well. Kent could be insufferable at times, though in Thomas’ case that was rather the pot calling the kettle black. Thomas worried that he’d let himself care for him a little too much.

“Barrow,” said Kent abruptly, his whispered outburst shifting the silence, “say we don’t make it tomorrow – “

“Don’t you start that,” Thomas snapped, “you’ll only depress us both.” 

“If I’m to die in the morning, all the more reason you should humour me now,” said Kent smugly, with a touch more triumph than a man who was contemplating his own death should. 

“Fine. Let’s have it, Kent.” They were careful to only ever use their surnames, out loud anyway.

“Alright,” he hesitated, and Thomas heard him swallow. “If this – if tonight really is our last night, and you could do anything with it you wanted, anything, one last time, what would it be?”

Thomas knew the answer, because he’d thought about it before. If this was his last night, he’d like to spend it in a clean and comfortable bed for starters. More importantly, with his arms around someone he cared about, just to sleep knowing they were close. Not that any such person existed. But he didn’t say that. Firstly because it was embarrassingly soppy, and secondly, he doubted very much Kent wanted to hear it. 

“I’m doing it right now,” he said, holding up the end of the cigarette, “having a smoke.”

“Oh.” Apparently that wasn’t the answer Kent wanted either. “I think… I think I’d want to spend it in – in bed, so to speak. You know… with someone.”

Thomas almost snorted at the round-about way he’d phrased the simple answer of ‘sex,’ but his surprise at the very personal admission held him in check. More often than not, Kent was a closed book, much like himself. “I’m sure a lot of men would agree with you on that score.”

“But it’s not the same,” he said slightly desperately, “because I – “ he paused, and Thomas could see the unhappy set of his mouth, “because I haven’t – you know – with anyone, before.” 

That was… surprising, though not entirely unexpected. Kent often carried himself with more swagger than was necessary, laughed too loud at bawdy stories the other men told. “Nothing wrong with that,” Thomas said eventually.

“I know,” said Kent, shifting uncomfortably, “but I’d liked to have done it before I go all the same.”

“Fair enough,” Thomas squashed his finished cig into the mud, “though I’m sure there’s a fair few here in the same boat as you.”

“Not you, though,” Kent said quietly.

“No,” said Thomas, “not me.”

Kent looked at him, eyes hauntingly bright in the shifting darkness, lips slightly parted, and for a few scant moments, Thomas let himself wonder. Wonder what it would be like to sink his fingers into that golden hair, take those lips between his own as they slid together in a last night of pleasure before they met their end, miraculously free of lice and grime and the whole ridiculous affair they’d been thrust into. 

“I – I’d best get some sleep,” Kent muttered, looking away and to the floor, before saying with forced cheerfulness, “see you on the other side, eh?” 

“Yes,” said Thomas. I sincerely hope so. “Goodnight, Kent.”


End file.
